Racism in America: The eye of the beholder

There are many things we'd wish away, if we could. War, poverty, racism. ... The list is long. "All You Need Is Love," went the Beatles' song. Tragically, this is probably true. Love seems to be in short supply today. Our world grows smaller and tensions between us stronger and more apparent.

I remember a conversation some years ago during a committee meeting. We were discussing the problem of homelessness. We decided to explore our own prejudices as a way to understand why others may project negative attributes on people they perceive to be homeless. One of the members of the committee commented on her impression of a young woman she had seen on the plaza. She described the young woman as having a head that was half shaved, with the remaining hair dyed green. She assumed the young woman was homeless and probably up to no good.

I identified the young woman immediately. "That happens to be my stepdaughter," I interjected. "She is a straight-A student in high school, and by no means homeless." This was a moment of insight for me. Since I was OK with her appearance, I assumed others would be as well. The quality of her heart seemed more important than the color of her hair. We can't always trust others to see things our way.

Fast forward to Trayvon Martin, walking home from a neighborhood store with a pack of Skittles and a soft drink. His appearance, simply because he was a black young man wearing a hooded sweatshirt, was enough to set off a series of events that ended in his death. Call it prejudice, or whatever. We make assumptions about one another on first impression that, more often than not, prove to be wrong. Rushing to judgment is a big mistake.

I am a white man from a Midwestern town. I grew up during the civil rights era of the 1960s and '70s. There were riots in neighborhoods close by. But racism didn't touch my life much. I went to a college preparatory school where 99 percent of us went on to college. About one quarter of the student body were African American. We competed for the best grades, and in sports. We sang together in choir. I didn't see what the big deal about race was all about.

It wasn't until I moved to New York City that I began to understand the extent and depth of racism in America. In the world I grew up in -- and Stephen Colbert does a wonderful parody of it -- we didn't see race. As long as people talked, acted, dressed and went to the same schools we did, there really didn't seem to be much difference between us.

Racism is, and has always been, about class. I watched something recently that mentioned the Know-Nothing Party, an anti-immigrant group from the mid-nineteenth century. In those days, the enemy were German and eastern European immigrants, mostly Roman Catholic. Like Mexican immigrants today, these newcomers were perceived as taking jobs from the rest of us. The Know-Nothing party was out to preserve America for Americans. I wonder how many Tea Party members trace their roots back to them.

Clearly, simply playing by the rules is not enough to protect you or those you love from prejudice. We live in a multi-cultural society, with many valid ways of expressing ourselves. We often speak and dress and act in ways that don't necessarily conform to the established view of how we should do these things. Trayvon Martin represents people who are unseen and unheard, not because of who they are, but because of what they appear to be to others.

The Rev. Eric Duff is an Episcopal priest and licensed clinical social worker who writes this column for the Times-Standard. He has a psychotherapy practice in McKinleyville. He can be reached at eric6017@suddenlink.net.